


Quite The Unlikely Tale of Love

by Metal_Gear_XANA



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 2020 Edelthea Secret Valentines Exchange, Adults, F/F, Human!Edelgard, Long Shot, Set in Video Game World, Sort Of, Their Post-Timeskip Selves, Vampire AU, Vampire!Dorothea, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22706872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Gear_XANA/pseuds/Metal_Gear_XANA
Summary: 2020 Edelthea Secret Valentines Exchange, for Amalie (@bakamiel Twitter): Vampire!AU!Cursed by a noble Dorothea is a vampire that lives in an abandoned castle, where she once hoped that a passing noble of many would offer her stability and companionship. None have shown her kindness, so she feasted on every noble that came to the castle. It appeared she was doomed to be alone forever, feared by people that has isolated her from the world.One day a mysterious white-haired woman comes to her castle to seek shelter from the political climate in Adrestia. She goes by 'Gisella', and whilst Dorothea knows that is not her real name she plays along. Unbeknownst to the brunette this woman is Edelgard von Hresvelg, future emperor. Overtime the two bond, and they learn to let go of their facades around each other. Love is the last thing the two ever expected to find in their lives.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Dorothea Arnault
Comments: 1
Kudos: 84
Collections: 2020 Edelthea Secret Valentines Exchange





	Quite The Unlikely Tale of Love

** Quite The Unlikely Tale of Love **

**A/N: Do you want to know what perfection looks like, Amalie? Just look in the mirror. This here is my 2020 Edelthea Secret Valentines Exchange for Amalie (@bakamiel Twitter), in which one of her options was ‘VAMPIRE AU VAMPIRE AU VAMPIRE AU’.**

**I hope you enjoy this work (and reading as this is long-); I think it is the best written piece I have done on Ao3! The website screwed up the timelines so I had to 'resubmit' on 15th February even though I submitted on 14th February.**

* * *

In another story Dorothea Arnault would be the beautiful woman locked in a haunted castle rescued by a caring and handsome man, in which they’d fall for each other and be together forever and beyond.

But this is not the story.

Cursed by a noble who had promised that his powers would free Dorothea from life as an orphan, the brunette became a creature feared and revolted by all in Fódlan. As a vampire all shunned her, and whilst as an orphan she was used to being ridiculed and abused, she had not expected towns to mobilise to hunt her down. Although she tried to blend in with the crowds in villages, towns and cities, with her ridiculously large cloak to hide her face and skin from the sun, they always found out. After barely surviving mobs and people of the cloth sent to exterminate her she decided to find a place to live far from mankind. Eventually she stumbled upon a deserted castle left to ruin, hidden in the thickets of a dreary and forlorn forest, where till this day she stays. Quite sombre these walls are, with their ransacked rooms and torn paintings of dukes and duchess that owned this once magnificent building, yet over time Dorothea grew accustomed to the isolation and forgone atmosphere. This castle is much like her: alone, desolate, and sombre, with secrets that are withheld from the world that has forgotten and forsaken her.

Overtime a few nobles passed by this castle. Many of them expressed interest in restoring it in their family name, to further enhance their gluttonous quest and bottomless pit of avarice and power. She knows their desires because they always acquainted her. Although startled as they were to learn that someone lived here, a dainty woman with a voice that the Goddess would weep for, dressed in clothing of the highest quality (of which she found in the confines of the castle), they were enamoured with her. At first she saw this as an opportunity to find a companion to be with her, to rid the terrible loneliness that consumed and seemed inseparable to her. Love was not what she sought; such silly ideas of someone falling for her for being herself ceased to be years before she became a vampire. Yet she learnt that they were only in it for her looks and voice, and their treatment towards her was cruel of the likes that Dorothea wishes no woman would ever have to suffer with. Many of them attempted to touch her when she expressed that she didn’t want to be, breaching her boundaries and treating her as nothing but an object to be used and abused.

So she killed them, drained their blood until they were nothing but skin and bone: every single one of those dastard nobles. First she lured them in with her trained smiles that hid her fangs, her fluttering eyelashes, and ringing chuckles. Then they would gift or leave their things after or before she disposed of them: clothing of the finest materials, wines produced from the juiciest berries, and food oh-so mouth watering. The number of nobles seemed endless, and their names faded with their deaths. How many she kissed and enamoured is beyond her. How long she has repeated this clockwork routine is unknown. They filled her bloodlust, thus preventing her from harming innocent folk that traversed the forest to reach their towns. There were some kind guests, yet none of them could give her a wonderful life. She bid them farewell with strained smiles. 

Loneliness stayed with her, but stability joined her.

One day an unusual guest came. It had been a cloudy day, the grey clouds being a burdensome sign for all except for a vampire that could not be touched by sunlight. Dorothea had been pruning a few roses that grew along the entranceway, when she then sensed a presence. Being a vampire has heightened her senses to that beyond human comparison. It did not ring any warning bells, yet it still brought her on edge. When she turned to the source she could not supress her surprise. A woman stood on the rocky pavement, a sight in itself nothing to be astonished about, blinking at Dorothea, no doubt surprised to see someone occupying this castle.

White hair cascaded against her back to her waist, a series of marble flowing strands that interestingly did not make the owner look sickly, and blended with her pallor skin. Lilac eyes, an unusual colour, carefully regarded her with a mixture of wonder and caution. This woman looks more fitting to be a vampire than Dorothea: a true contrast of deathly white skin, unusual coloured eyes, and silvery hair, with her forest green eyes, light tanned skin, and brown hair. Even dressed in nothing but a plain brown tunic, black breeches, riding boots and gloves, this stranger radiated a commanding presence of the likes that Dorothea only sensed from high-ranking officers. That axe at her hip certainly added to the image. Some nobles wore weapons for show, yet the brunette could see from the muscular stature carefully hidden in slightly baggy clothing that this woman knew how to handle her axe. 

“I was unaware that someone occupied this abandoned castle,” the woman voiced, her tone vaguely stressing ‘abandoned’ to sound her suspicions. “I do not wish to intrude.”

That was a first: all the nobles she met barged in as if they owned the castle, and commoners would walk in and utter apologies for stumbling in for shelter. Regardless Dorothea smiled sweetly and uttered that this castle is open for all to stop and rest if they wish. Yet the stranger regarded her like _she_ is the intruder, with furrowed brows and a pensive frown. Quite the solemn one, yet a game that the brunette is familiar with. She shrugged innocently and jested that a runaway needs shelter too. It was not far from the truth; hence, it was easy to pull off the lie with a charming smile and gleaming eyes. Her jest seemed to catch the enigma off guard, as the vampire noted from the slightly sagged posture and twitch of the bottom eyelid. Ah, a runaway.

“Two runaways hiding out in a castle,” Dorothea spoke with a mischievous glint in her widening smile. Before the mysterious woman could open her mouth the brunette chuckled, “I won’t pry as to what you are running from, only that you respect my desires to not expose mine.”

Begrudgingly the enigma refrained herself from catechising and rebuking that she is not running but avoiding danger. There is an aura emitted from her that many would claim is arrogance, yet to Dorothea it is more confidence, the sort that is not supercilious or overestimating, but of someone knowing their strengths and limitations. She asked for a name, in which the enigma answered ‘Gisella’. There was a sombre flicker that only the vampire could have caught, the sort of sorrow of someone reminiscing old friends or family. Yet she played ‘Gisella’s’ game and kindly introduced herself as Dorothea Arnault.

From there, unbeknownst to the two individuals at the time, things only became more interesting.

* * *

Serving as a tour guide has become second nature to the vampire. Every corridor distinguishable, every portrait standing out, and every room unique to another: she is now the owner of the castle. A gesture to the right, a comment here and there, coming to a halt from time to time, Dorothea knew this castle as if it was an extension of herself. At this stage one would be forgiven for mistaking her to be some automaton that was programed to know the ins and outs of the castle.

Gisella had catechised about the castle, showing both legitimate interest in her controlled gleaming eyes and suspicion whenever she eyed the vampire. There was no point in lying—the brunette confessed she found the castle abandoned, in which the smaller woman hummed in gratitude at the honesty. Dorothea offered her a room that was mostly untouched by time and vegetation, yet that did not mean it was flawless: the cracked cobblestones, the hole-ridden blankets and pillows, and the slightly rotten tables indicated this. Much to her flabbergast Gisella expressed gratitude as she observed the room and patted the bed, even managing to crack a small crooked smile towards the owner. No one, not even those desperate for shelter, thanked her for this room.

Dorothea then invited Gisella to the dining hall. When she had first arrived in this castle there was rubble everywhere, and chairs and tables cluttered in such a chaotic manner that not even the wickedest child could have caused it. Whilst splinters stuck from the tables, with moss peering from the gaps of the sticks, and the chairs whinnying regardless of who sat upon them, all served their function. Growing up as an orphan meant that Dorothea was not picky in the slightest when it came to appearance—if it functions, it is worth using. Once again Gisella displayed not a shred of revulsion at the condition of the castle, instead opting to sit down and wait for the taller woman to fetch some food. The castle’s old gardens were untamed and overgrown, yet it allowed it to bear plenty of fruit and vegetables. As for meat Dorothea goes to hunt for deer and warthog in the forest. Her supernatural abilities do have their positives, although unfortunately they do not balance the negatives of being a vampire. When she serves food she always makes sure to wear gloves to protect her skin when handling silver plates and cutlery.

It is not a meal suitable for the dukes and duchess that once owned this estate, with the slightly burnt onion pieces, the undercooked capsicum, and perfectly cooked meat, but Gisella does not complain. There was a flicker of surprise when the plate was bestowed to her, much to the bewilderment of Dorothea. It was droll how perturbed Gisella appeared, as she smelled the food and goblet of water in thinking they were poisoned. With how intransigent the smaller woman acted, Dorothea had to walk over to the opposite end of the table to take a few bites and sips. Yet even so, when she went back over to her chair to eat her meal, Gisella waited for some time to pass. Best as Dorothea tried, she could not ignore those lilac eyes trained on her every move. Even when she made obvious glances towards Gisella the white woman continued to observe her. She is used to men and the occasional women gawking or staring dreamily at her, with their eyes raking across her face, lips and neck, and the sound of their lips smacking in ardent lust, as they became enamoured. Nothing in Gisella’s body language: poised, tense, and austere, indicated that she is enamoured by her, be that platonic, romantic, or sexual. It was as if the brunette is a prisoner being regarded by an interrogator.

“It is not poisoned,” Dorothea spoke. This was the first time since she could remember sounding chagrined by someone. She flicked a wrist to the meal. “Do help yourself.”

Gisella appeared to break out of some meditative trance. She cleared her throat and took the cutlery. How she held her knife and fork, and how she handled them with finesse as if they are the most delicate objects, was like that of a noble. It would explain that austere air that surrounds her. Perhaps she is a minister’s wife; the axe by her side may imply she is even a minister of interior’s wife. Wives of noblemen can be far snootier and haughtier than their male counterparts. Their gossip and hyperbolic expressions of the ‘meddlesome’ peasants always made Dorothea quietly scoff and for her smiles to turn sinister. Spoiled and ungrateful, every last one of them, and not a single one she has met made her feel remorseful when she drained their blood. A forlorn frown formed on Dorothea’s face to match her trenchant eyes, and her fingers tapped against the table to silently cool the igniting vitriolic loathing she has towards nobles. They do not deserve any kindness when they themselves do nothing to warrant it.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Gisella apologised. Dorothea was not startled because the enigma spoke; she was shocked by how genuine she sounded. Even the smaller woman’s steely expression softened sombrely. “I am… not used to people being kind to me.” 

Under any other circumstances the vampire would ruefully think that it is no surprise that none express kindness to a noble. But the way Gisella sounded and appeared, melancholic and accepting, her eyes flickering in an internal battle of breaking through her trust issues, resonated with Dorothea. Growing up as an orphan till her time in the castle acquainting with nobles has shaped her into a cynical woman, waring a façade of a happy-go-lucky woman. Gisella’s tone implied that not even other nobles have showcased kindness to her, odd as that may sound. Naturally many nobles detest each other, as Dorothea has learnt from observing their mannerisms and sour talk, although the smaller woman seemed unfamiliar to acts of kindness. For the first time in her life the vampire felt a pang of guilt for jumping to conclusions with a noble.

Her rancorous expression of creased wrinkles and flared nostrils eased into an understanding look. Green eyes flickered compassionately to the guest. “Well, I can assure you that I will treat you with nothing but kindness and respect.”

The way in which Gisella flinched in flabbergast at such a claim further proved that she truly is unfamiliar with cordiality. Those once wary eyes shifted to that of a person feeling strangely touched by words and gestures foreign to them. Perhaps unbeknownst to Gisella a small smile, an auspicious one, cracked across her austere façade towards Dorothea. Even the vampire, without realizing it, allowed an honest and open smile to slip through her mask.

* * *

Gisella had inquired if she could stay for some time here, for she must wait for the right time to move out. Dorothea had wryly remarked that it is an abandoned castle, so it is open for all with no need for payment to stay. During the night the vampire went hunting for deer, ducks, and warthogs in the woods. The abyss of the night, barely illuminated by the stars and moon, where the branches of the trees shielded the ground from the sky, allowed for Dorothea to freely display her powers. Precision of the likes that no archer could match when she strikes an unsuspecting animal with her taloned hands. Strength that rivals a bear’s when she slammed a powerful animal into a tree. Even her fangs have quite the powerful bite when she sunk her teeth. She can be her cursed self in the open, for nature’s eyes only. No one else, not even the Goddess, accepts her.

Waking up she was shocked to see from her window the sight of Gisella cutting wood. Immediately the brunette dressed in her standard black dress and power-walked outside, where the clouds still obscured the sun, to check upon the pallor woman. When Gisella noticed her she uttered a greeting so nonchalantly as if the sight of her cutting timber did not raise eyebrows. Of course Dorothea inquired as to why the guest was committing to it, in which Gisella halted and said that she noticed the castle running out of firewood and that she wanted to be of use. Somehow the vampire disguised her astonishment with a dismissive snort. This was a first: a noble willingly helping someone out. It would seem that this mysterious woman is not as pampered as nobles tend to be. Even when Dorothea insisted that she could handle it, requesting to wield Gisella’s axe of the finest silver and engravings, the smaller woman kindly turned her down and stated that she wishes to be of assistance around the castle. Quite the character Gisella is turning out to be.

True to her word Gisella wandered around the castle doing anything she could to assist. If Dorothea went out to hunt, then Gisella joined by fetching a spare bow and quiver full of arrows from the armoury. If Dorothea went to the overgrown gardens to prune for vegetables, Gisella assisted by carrying bags of attained goods to the kitchen. One time when Dorothea was preparing some meal Gisella insisted on helping out, which turned out to be so comical when the pallor woman suggested to use her axe to speed up the cutting. Dorothea guffawed at the unironic suggestion so hysterically that she felt tears in her eyes and her chest heave from the lack of air entering her lungs. Throughout they nattered, never getting too personal about their lives, but gradually opening up about their interests and hobbies. The way Gisella’s lilac eyes glistened when she brought up her love for books and art made Dorothea strive to see the woman loosen up. It amazed the brunette how attentive Gisella was to her whenever she spoke of her own interests. All the others pretended to listen or understand the intricacies of her passion for music and song, in some circumstances brushing her aside to gloat about themselves.

Gisella brought up interpretations of some plays that Dorothea spoke about, none that were surface-levelled and all showcasing how truly appreciative Gisella is of the arts. Soon the two grew to share their views and interpretations of plays, books, and poetry, and in no time they grew relaxed around each other. Overtime Gisella’s smiles grew, and her previously restrained snorts of amusement turned to wholehearted chuckles. There may have even been times when Dorothea, grinning or chuckling, may have nearly exposed her fangs.

One day, on a sunny one where Dorothea wore a rather comically large brimmed hat to protect herself, where she and Gisella pruned the rose garden by the entrance, the brunette sung a song. That in itself is nothing odd; she has hummed tunes when doing choirs or gathering vegetables in front of Gisella. It was the conversations it sparked that transformed their relationship.

Gisella halted the pruning to look over at Dorothea. When the brunette finished, she inquired, “That song is from ‘The Princess and the Commoner’, yes?”

At that Dorothea paused and turned to the pallor woman with an amused smile and humoured glint in her forest green eyes. “I never took you for one to enjoy sappy romances, Gisella.”

Gisella snorted at the claim, and a sly smile crossed her. “On the surface the play appears to be nothing more than a sappy romance.” Dorothea noticed the subtle facial muscles move to express a knowing side to the woman. “However, upon closer inspection, it is an excellent criticism on the existence of classes.”

That claim… the way Gisella delivered those words in a critical manner… Could it be that she is against nobility? The vampire, suppressing this bubbling excitement so to not be disappointed if it is untrue, dared to ask: “And what are your views on class?”

Gisella shook her head at the silly notion, and a disappointed frown and furrow of her white eyebrows further added to how unimpressed she appeared. “It is such a baffling creation, dividing people and treating them differently based on their birth. Those of merit should be rewarded, not some noble who never worked a day in their life to earn their position.”

A resolute expression crossed Gisella’s face. “All should be treated righteously, regardless of their birth, colour, and what they believe in.”

_Stunned._

Really to call Dorothea being ‘stunned’ does little to no justice. Manners and protecting her identity be damned, with how she gawked at the woman, her eyebrows shot to hide under the bangs of her hair, and her green eyes so wide that it strained her muscles. Never had she imagined that a noble would be so passionate about ending class divide. Commoners have spoken about their disdain for the nobility, she herself too, yet none sounded this chagrined by the notion of its existence, and none had or could compete with the factuality of how Gisella sounded of it being pointless.

“I agree with you,” breathed out the brunette. As if some divine intervention controlled her voice she continued: “Although I dress and look lovely I come from a poor background. Living off scraps and generosity is what made me get through in life.”

Dorothea bit her lips at how she blurted this out of the blue, wincing when she drew blood from her lips, which further exasperated how silly and cantankerous she felt. Pity is the last thing she wants from anyone, let alone someone that so far has brought pleasant company to her loneliness. Gisella’s expression softening nearly made the vampire want to turn away, only to notice that it was not a look of sympathy. On closer inspection those lilac eyes expressed… remorse. It was the sort of look reserved for people that felt guilty for having done something or lack of having done something.

“I am truly sorry that you had to live like that,” Gisella said solicitously with a forlorn frown. She turned away to look at the nearest rose. “I am a noble, yet I have done nothing to help people live a comfortable and sustainable life.”

Dorothea is a master of reading people and interpreting their characters. With the amount of nobles and the occasional commoners that passed through, and her interactions before becoming a vampire, she thought she had perfected her skills in understanding people. Yet at this very moment she is completely lost with what to make of Gisella. Nobles are not known to be considerate of commoners, let alone feel responsible to wanting to help them. Sure they gaggle about how it is their righteous duty to protect the common folk, but none genuinely believed it. False words from people of false intentions. Yet the way Gisella opened up and delivered her words sounded so honest that it… it leaves Dorothea feeling vulnerable and, oxymoronically, at peace.

Gisella turned to her with a fiery determination in her eyes of the likes that Dorothea has never seen from anyone. “When the political climate in Enbarr has settled, I wish to return so that I can one day change Fódlan for the better,” Gisella declared, a memento for the Goddess to bear witness upon. “Birth will no longer dictate people’s lives, and Crests will vanish into oblivion. That is my goal, and I will see it to fruition, no matter the odds or how long it will take.”

If anyone else had boasted such claims Dorothea would have barked mirthlessly and made cynical remarks. But not with Gisella, who as Dorothea has gotten to know for the pass few days has shown nothing but rational thought and grit. Truly if anyone can achieve this goal it could be Gisella, even when Dorothea knows in her mind that it is impossible. Maybe her scepticism can be proven wrong. So far she has been proven wrong regarding Gisella’s character, and each time it has turned out for the better. 

“You know what? You’re the first noble I genuinely like,” Dorothea confessed half-jokingly and half-seriously as she regarded Gisella before her.

At that Gisella chuckled auspiciously with a grin, a smile reaching her ears as she briefly closed her eyes to let the laughter subside. Oh what a beautiful sound her laughs are, Dorothea thinks. That snort within the laughter is going to have the brunette thinking about it for the days to come.

“I am glad to hear that someone finds me likable,” Gisella jested, _jested!_ , her smile softening but still openly there. “Especially someone as interesting as you, Miss Arnault.”

Compliments are something Dorothea is _far_ too used to. Supercilious poetry about her heavenly looks and voice makes her eyes roll. But that awkward compliment from Gisella was so genuine that it made Dorothea feel beyond wonderful. What’s this, a pink blush blossoms from her cheeks? Oh how splendid it feels against her, reminding her that though she is a vampire she is also human.

* * *

Since then they have become close friends.

Gisella found a private library where she had asked if she could read works of non-fiction in areas of politic, crestology, and sociology to achieve her goals. Dorothea had agreed, on the condition that the noble stop calling her ‘Miss Arnault’ and instead call her by her first name. Quite often, when Gisella wasn’t busy, she read in the library or in her room. More often than not she read into the nights; those bags under her eyes showcased that to the world. Sometimes Dorothea would snatch the book and grab her hand to take her for outside walks or to dine together. At first Gisella used to flinch violently at being touched, even when Dorothea accidently grazed her shoulder. Such reactions spurred ideas to Dorothea of the pallor woman having experienced past abuse.

Gisella would even apologise for such reactions, calling herself ridiculous and pathetic, only to be kindly dismissed by the brunette. Without goading or prying for answers Dorothea assured that she understands and respects Gisella’s boundaries, and that she is willing to slowly help her gradually grow comfortable with touch. That touched expression of shimmering lilac eyes, an auspicious smile, and her facial muscles easing adorned the vampire’s memory vault. When Gisella gradually grew accustomed to touch, through exchanging of items that involved fingers brushing, to assisting each other in carrying heavy load, her smiles became a more common sight.

Even the vampire felt herself smiling, truly smiling, more often. Whenever she asked for Gisella to read aloud to her some fiction piece, the noble would voice act different characters and make exaggerated gestures. Dorothea would guffaw as she played along, even when she did not know the scripture, in which the austere Gisella would flash a grin of pearly whites. Whenever Dorothea sung a play from one of the books Gisella would join in as a duet, even occasionally sounding horrible to hear the brunette laugh. Sometimes the two would quickly resurface their facades: Gisella would clear her throat and appear solemn, whereas Dorothea would brush a lock of hair and grow nonchalant. Then they would snicker through tightly shut lips at this pointless masquerade, and this wonderful routine would repeat again and again until it became a fun charade.

Quite the pair they make. Sometimes Gisella surprises her; an example of this was when the noble threw a bucket of leaves unto Dorothea when the owner walked under the stairs. That playful smirk delighted Dorothea in a way she would never wish to admit, especially when she paid the smaller woman back by throwing tomatoes at her when they were preparing food together. Whimsical laughter, once foreign and inconceivable in the castle, echoed for many days and weeks. Before she knew it Dorothea started to flirt with Gisella. Whenever the pallor woman would cut wood or carry heavy goods, where her muscles contorted under the tunic and breeches to showcase her stature, Dorothea would comment at how if she ever was tired or injured she would love to be held in Gisella’s strong arms. The red blush that spread across Gisella’s face down to her neck ascended Dorothea’s soul to another realm. Embarrassing the noble to see her flush and grumble bashfully felt like all the birthdays rolled in one, and not once did it grow old. Even Gisella began to tease her with compliments, uttering hyperbolically how divine she looks. In other circumstances would have antagonised Dorothea, only with Gisella it made the vampire laugh. 

There have been many incidents when, because of how close Dorothea has grown with Gisella, that she risked exposing her identity. Few times at night the pallor woman nearly caught her glowing green eyes. The times she flashed her teeth that brought wonder to Gisella were far too many to count. Most likely the times she carried a warthog from a hunt over her shoulder brought a mixture of awe and suspicion from Gisella. Also there was that time she used her speed to appear by Gisella’s side to tap that adorable curved nose of hers. Perhaps Gisella had already caught on to the fact that she is a vampire. If that were the case then the noble did a splendid job hiding it. If she knew, then it is a miracle she has not attempted to murder her in her sleep or leave the castle.

One night, after Dorothea went out to drain the blood of animals in the woods, she heard a bloodcurdling scream from the Gisella’s room. In an instant the brunette’s form transformed into that of something akin to a gargoyle with bat features, and rushed to deal with whoever was harming the noble. At the door she was about to break it down, only to come to a halt when her gigantic bat ears paid attention to the sounds. Thrashing against quilts, whimpers of dismay, calling out to others: a nightmare. Once her terrifying form dissipated to that of human, Dorothea felt her face mellow in pity. Without delay she opened the door and sauntered in to call to Gisella to wake up. When she didn’t respond to her name (it isn’t her real name as Dorothea knows) the taller woman shook Gisella by the shoulders. In a blink the pallor woman shot up and grabbed the brunette’s wrists with vice-like urgency. Upon recognising that she is in the world of reality, and that she was crushing her friend’s wrists, Gisella retracted her hands and looked away in shame. 

Dorothea opened her mouth to inquire about what the nightmare was about. She shut it when Gisella, still looking away, lifted her hand and quietly said, “Please… forget what you witnessed.”

Without a word Dorothea took one of Gisella’s hands in her own. For the first time since knowing her Dorothea has seen her without gloves. She herself is not wearing her gloves; when she hunts at night she needs her long nails to slice up rabbits. Now before the two is a pallor woman with strange precision scars on her wrists, surgical looking, and a human-deceiving vampire with long talon-like nails. Funny how the two always wear gloves to hide their secrets from the world.

“Your hand is icy cold,” Gisella whispered as she turned to regard the taller woman’s hand. She mustered the courage to look up, her once petrified expression softening in solicitous worry. “I hope you are not falling ill.”

Here is a woman that woke up from what sounded to be the most horrific nightmare imaginable, only to express worry to someone in far better health than her. Dorothea smiled kindly and shook her head.

“That I am not, Gisella,” Dorothea assured with a gentle pat against the white haired woman’s hand. Her smile faltered as she stared forlornly at Gisella. “You gave me quite the fright.” 

A bite of the lips indicated that this was a sensitive subject for Gisella. White eyelashes fluttered as she tried to process what to say, and how open she can be about herself. “I tend to have nightmares about… about people closest to me dying, helpless to do anything, be that saving them… or putting them out of their misery.”

Her shaky tone, something not indicative of a woman that Dorothea has witnessed to be seemingly fearless and unfazed, indicated that these dreams are based on real events. Dorothea simply tightened her grip on her friend’s hand, eluding her to continue if she so wishes. Lilac eyes search hers to gauge if she should go on, should place trust in someone, and should be vulnerable amongst a dear friend.

“My scars are a reminder that I am a sole survivor, a person burdened with a mighty duty that goes against the Goddess,” Gisella continued jadedly as she twisted her wrist to give Dorothea a better look at the surgical cut.

The brunette had noticed that the nightgown lent to Gisella could not hide the scars that decorate (ha, what a word to describe…) her collarbones and ankles. They looked to be years old, precise, as if dissected and shoddily sewn back. The vampire could sense something eerie from the scars—they cannot be healed by magic. 

A heavy sigh escaped the tightly clenched jaw of Gisella. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand as she let out a mirthless bark. “I must appear to be quite pathetic: a grown woman thrashing in her sleep because of some nightmare.”

“Would you consider me to be pathetic if I tell you that I myself have nightmares that sometimes wake me up in cold sweat?” Dorothea inquired lackadaisically as she cocked an eyebrow inquisitively and dryly at Gisella.

Silence answers all. A melancholic expression crosses Dorothea as she frowns in recollection. “I dream of being back on the streets, starving so badly that my stomach aches with every step I make, until I collapse on a road, where people walk by me and see me as nothing but garbage.” 

Gisella tried to apologise, only for her mouth to clamp shut. Opting for a physical solution instead the socially inept woman gave a gentle squeeze of Dorothea’s hand. Moonlight glistened across the two, embracing them in a celestial glow that brought out their eyes. There is something comforting about those lilac eyes of hers, Dorothea thinks, as she stares at them with a fond smile. She feels safe, cared for even, the likes that she never experienced with anyone. Oh that crooked smile of Gisella’s that seemed reserved just for her made her heart flutter with rapturous delight.

“Mayhap a lullaby will put you to sleep,” Dorothea suggested with an enthusiastic glint in her eye. She dared to grin her pearly whites. “Although I must sound like I gloat, my voice can soothe the most tumultuous of minds.”

Gisella chuckled that wonderful hearty laugh of hers. “Enlighten me then,” she encouraged. Her gaze turns soft, in which the moonlight brings it out and makes her look heavenly. “You have a lovely voice, Dorothea, even if does pale in comparison to the true beauty: you as a person.”

 _Oh…!_ Dorothea felt herself straighten up at the odd compliment from Gisella. The pallor woman seemed to realise how she sounded, loving and soft, which made her skin light up red like that of the sun. Not that Dorothea was any better—the blush is the only burning sensation against her chilly skin. Goddess even her heart was pounding at such a rate that she nearly mistook it for a cardiac arrest. Gisella cleared her throat, a habit of hers that the vampire picked up whenever she is embarrassed or bashful, and carefully she took her hand away from the brunette. Without a word she sunk into the covers to hide herself from further awkwardness. Dorothea spluttered, speechless once again because of Gisella, as she tried to prepare herself to sing a lullaby for the noble.

Quite the duo indeed. Quite the feelings they are developing for each other. Quite oblivious they are.

* * *

“Has anyone ever called you adorable, Gisella?”

That humiliated scoff from the noble answered Dorothea’s question. The taller woman smirked as she twirled around the ballroom with Gisella. Ever since the encounter regarding the pallor woman’s nightmare the two no longer wear gloves. It could even be said that the two have started to break their boundaries and show no fear when being around one another. That is not to say they share their secrets. But they are intimate, something once so alien to them as individuals. They brush hands often when going out to the woods for a picnic or to hunt. Gisella had once unfastened the strings of her tunic’s chest to expose the most horrific of scars for Dorothea to caress. Although pointless as it is, due to her vampirism, Dorothea allows Gisella to try to keep her warm through crafting tea and offering her cloaks she found across the castle.

The amount of times they caught each other’s lingering stares could build a fortune. For the pass few months Dorothea has been at her happiest. Her heart swells a crescendo of warmth whenever she is with Gisella. Goddess she is just phenomenal: smart, kind, and brave. She has never felt this way with anyone. It is daunting… yet magnificent.

“I am definitely not adorable!” Gisella retorted with a huff as she danced with her taller partner.

Bell chime giggles emit from Dorothea as she halts their dance. Mindful of her nails she takes her hand away from Gisella’s waist and runs a finger down the pallor woman’s nose to her lips. “Well, I think you’re the cutest thing to grace my life...” Her cheeky look turns into the softest gaze humanly possible. "…and the best thing to happen to me…”

There it is again: that blush adorning her cheeks and her lilac eyes softly gazing at her. Tentatively Gisella brings a hand to cup Dorothea’s cheeks, uncertain if her calloused hands deserve to touch something so soft. Without a word Dorothea leans into the touch, and her forest green eyes sparkle as she sighs contently. Warmth overwhelms the vampire as she finds herself staring lovingly down at the noble. Everything about Gisella feels right. Dorothea would like her to stay with her forever. She likes her tremendously so. She wonders if this could be love-

Something caused Dorothea’s ears to flinch in alarm.

Pulling away she turns to the source with narrowed eyes and a snarl. Her attuned hearing catches the sound of a group of figures, heavily armed, perhaps eight of them altogether, storming up the entrance to enter the castle. Beside her Gisella inquires what is the matter, in which Dorothea moves towards the foyer to deal with these unwanted guests. From behind her she hears Gisella pick up her axe that she had placed aside for their dance, soon followed by her sprinting after the vampire. When Dorothea reached the balcony overlooking the foyer a group of armed bandits found their way in.

This would not be the first time Dorothea has dealt with meddlesome bandits, yet these men seemed too heavily armed and professional to be mere delinquents. The armour and weaponry are well too maintained for bandits to put effort into, and how they handled themselves with caution and watchful eyes showcased that they do not simply rush into danger. Beside her Gisella appears with her axe ready, her stance, gaze, and posture indicating to the vampire that this noble has slain people before.

When one of the mercenaries (it is the best guess) spots Gisella his eyes seem to nearly leave his face with how wide they’ve gotten. “That hair and eye colour…”

He unsheathes a mighty claymore and points it towards the smaller woman by Dorothea. Everyone turns their attention to Gisella. With a voice that boomed across the castle for all to hear, he yelled, “ _You’re the emperor-to-be, Edelgard von Hresvelg!_ ” 

_What…?_

Flabbergasted beyond expression Dorothea simply turned to stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed at Gisella. The noble exhaled sharply through clenched teeth, and her expression turned steely as she glared trenchantly down at the mercenaries. Her grip tightens against her axe until her hand turns red from ache. She absolutely refuses to turn towards Dorothea, yet that forlorn frown and sombre eyes confirm it to be true. Emperor-to-be…? It… it would explain Gis-Edelgard’s talk of changing Fódlan for the better through political means. Dorothea has met many high ranked nobles, such as generals and ministers… but not the future ruler of a country.

She was so in awe that she didn’t see a mercenary notch an arrow at her.

Edelgard noticed: “Dorothea-!”

At the fire the noble went in front of the brunette to shield her with her back. The arrow lodges into the pallor woman’s backside, and she lets out a grunt of agony and a spasm at the searing pain in her. Forest green eyes widened as the owner barely process what had just occurred.

“Gise-Edelgard!” Dorothea yelped in utmost worry as she grabbed the heir’s shoulders to keep her stable.

Maniacal laughter boomed from below the stairs where the mercenaries are. Dorothea ignored them as she regarded the princess with solicitous anxiety. Miraculously Edelgard straightens herself up by clutching the vampire’s arms, and then she turned with her axe (oh, she had not dropped it) at her side. Her breathing increased and her skin appeared whiter to the vampiric eye, yet somehow she still stood her ground. Blood stained her brown tunic from behind, and Dorothea could not suppress a gasp through her hand covering her mouth.

“Is that a concubine of yours, princess!?” one of the mercenaries mockingly-asked. A couple wolf-whistles followed from the others. “Mind sharing her with us?”

Both women’s expressions darkened exponentially as they glared trenchantly from above. Edelgard raised an arm to halt Dorothea from moving forward. Confused the vampire turned to Edelgard, and the smaller woman finally looked at her after her reveal.

“I doubt your magic and my axe skills will be enough to take them all out,” Edelgard spoke knowingly with an austere expression. “Leave them to me.”

“ _Absolutely not._ ” Dorothea spoke firmly with no room for debate, even managing to startle the seemingly unfazed noble.

Before the heir could rebuttal, Dorothea laid a hand on her shoulder and turned away with a pained solemn expression to regard the readying mercenaries. A sad smile crooks against her face. “You’re not the only one with secrets…”

In a blink Dorothea lunges off the balcony.

No one could process what was going on until a sword-wielding mercenary found his neck bitten by a powerful jaw. Startled screams erupted from the closest men as they bore witness to something inhuman. Glowing green eyes turn to the others with a bloodlust incomparable to any animal. An archer fired straight at the heart… yet the creature did not flinch. Instead it nonchalantly took out the arrow and broke it in its palm. Everyone now had a good look at the beast. Gargoyle-like with gigantic bat ears and wings, black as the darkest nights, eyes glowing like the moon, and brown wavy locks curtaining its face. Clad in the dress that belonged to its previous owner it would have looked darkly comical, if not for the snarl of fangs, the flaring nostrils, and the ear-piercing shriek. It didn’t take long for everyone including Edelgard to conclude that, that creature is Dorothea.

Recovering from their shocks the majority of mercenaries, those wielding silver axes, swords, and lances, circled around the beast. The foyer was too small and cramped for Dorothea to take flight, particularly when in danger of those silver lances jabbing at her. Her planning screeched to a halt when a splutter came from someone. Glancing to the side she saw an axe split an archer’s head, then the sight of fiery lilac eyes as the user retracted the axe. Dorothea and Edelgard made eye contact. Instead of revulsion, betrayal, or terror in Edelgard’s eyes, there is only determination: they say ‘I can still fight and help you’. Dorothea hoped that her freakishly glowing eyes spoke ‘thank you’.

Taking everyone’s shock to her advantage the vampire grabbed the throats of the two lance users and dashed away up the stairs. There she crushed their throats, ending their lives instantly, and threw them against the steps. In that time Edelgard clashed with the man wielding a claymore; even injured she held herself extremely well.

It is hard for Dorothea to recall how everything else unfolded. Edelgard dealt with two other mercenaries with finesse and strength that rivalled armoured units. Dorothea fought with teeth and nails, savouring the blood of these men against her tongue, occasionally getting nicked by silver weapons that her dress could not protect her from. Bones cracked, blood splattered—chaos sung a horrible tune. Throughout the ordeal her eyes would dart to gauge the condition of the heir, sometimes catching the woman looking over to her to see how she managed.

When the fight came to its bloody end the vampire collapsed on her knees from a mixture of exhaustion and searing wounds she received. Gradually her appearance returned to that of a human, for she is too weak to retain her monstrous form to assist the princess. Hisses of agony escaped her clenched teeth from the wounds received from silver weapons. One such wound is a graze at her side, where blood stained her clothing and made her feel lethargic. Her tattered dress indicated the many injuries she received. Yet her thoughts went to Edelgard. When she sensed her she looked up.

Much to her utmost astonishment the pallor woman carefully lifted her tunic off, turned away, and offered it to Dorothea. This woman was more concerned about Dorothea’s modesty than hiding the scars that diseased her body. Honestly the brunette had no idea what to think or say. Under better circumstances she would have burst into tears at how touched she feels. She took off her dress and changed into the tunic, small yet big enough to hide her thighs. Carefully she wraps an arm around Edelgard so the two could assist one another to walk to a room to treat their injuries. The vampire tries to use healing magic against the back injury of the princess, yet her words are too slurred to form a coherent spell. So the two just walk silently, shouldering each other, until they find somewhere to be treated.

* * *

They haven’t spoken since the ordeal.

Dorothea sowed the final touches on Edelgard’s back scar. They sit atop a bed to allow for the treatment. Her cascading white hair was thrown over her shoulder to allow easy access to her back. Grunts and winces escaped the smaller woman who tried her hardest to supress the noises of discomfort. The vampire’s own wounds have healed, yet the aches from before still lingered. With a gentleness none would expect from a vampire, Dorothea rubbed circles against Edelgard’s back. The silence was killing her, and no doubt the same applied to the heir. Dorothea bit her lips in apprehension, unsure as to whether she should start conversation. This wasn’t to be an interrogation. What is there to say and talk about? Goddess she feels helpless. The so-called master of reading people and honeying her words rendered taciturn.

“So…” a click of the tongue, “emperor-to-be…”

What a pitiful start…

A heaving back indicated to the brunette that Edelgard let out a heavy sigh. “Yes… It was nothing personal of me to keep my identity a secret to you; I had to hide out in a place where none recognised me.”

“Due to the political turmoil of revolting nobles against nobles my coronation was prevented, and I had to retreat into hiding until everything settled.” Edelgard still refused to look over her shoulder. “I traversed Adrestia in hopes of finding a place to hide in. Then I stumbled here, and met you.”

Dorothea holds no grudge nor does she feel betrayed. Nothing about this reveal changes the fact that Edelgard has been kind to her. The fact that she is still here, _allowing_ her of all beings to treat her wounds, despite witnessing what she is, speaks volumes. She believes that her silence does not indicate this, so she continued to rub circles against the creamy and muscular back. Carefully, in which Dorothea retracted her hand, Edelgard turned around to now brave in facing the brunette. Lilac eyes softened as they blinked inquisitively at her, showing nothing but concerned wonder. Such a soft look is unfair, something that Dorothea does not deserve from anyone. 

“What of you, Dorothea?”

Dorothea let out a rueful smile. “You wish to know about me, even after what you witnessed?”

“Everyone has a story.” Edelgard uttered knowingly with a pensive look.

So Dorothea explained everything and bared her soul: how she was cursed, what she has become, how long she owned this abandoned castle, and the nobles she feasted upon. Not once throughout did Edelgard’s expression shift to disgust or horror. She just sat and listened attentively, as if Dorothea is the most fascinating and charismatic speaker there ever was. When the vampire concluded her story, Edelgard still looked at her with kindness of which Dorothea could not comprehend why she deserved it. Then the smaller woman further opened up about herself, her darkest secrets: why her hair is white, why she is so determined to rid the Crests and class divide, and how the gruesome deaths of her siblings haunt her in her sleeps. It explained why Edelgard managed to fight back, despite the arrow that had been lodged into her.

Dorothea expressed remorse as she eyed Edelgard with consideration, which made the princess voice out why anyone would show her kindness. Dorothea had dryly remarked why _she_ is being treated well by a wonderful person. Somehow they don’t argue about it, only silently accepting that they are both fools. They certainly have more in common than they may have realised. Two individuals exposing their souls to another, to each other: nothing could be better.

“Two runaways with secrets of incredible proportions,” Dorothea managed to jest with a few light chuckles. She flashes her canines in a grin. “Quite the operatic tale it would make.”

Edelgard huffed a few laughs, and oh it sounds beautiful. “Perhaps too unbelievable to many.”

They then stare at each other. They find themselves closing the space until they are mere centimetres apart. It had been unbeknownst to them till now that they held hands. A determined expression crosses Edelgard as she continued to stare at Dorothea. She gives a squeeze of Dorothea’s hand.

“I will find a cure for you.”

At that Dorothea spluttered at the incredulous remark. Edelgard continued as if she did not startle the vampire: “I believe curing you will be easier than taking out another Crest from my body. I will devote my time here to not only reading about Crests and politics, but also about curing your vampirism.”

That smile… oh that smile that crosses Edelgard’s face. “You will be cured, Dorothea. I will make sure of it.”

To say Dorothea is touched is… it does not do justice.

Tears well in her eyes. One of her hands comes to her mouth to hide her shock. Goddess she cannot remember the last time she cried. Did she ever cry tears of joy? Not that she can recall. Everything is so overwhelmingly positive that she cannot help but sob and smile a smile that reaches the tips of her ears. Even the princess allows her smile to grow at the sight of a vehemently touched Dorothea. Once again Dorothea’s gaze turns loving towards Edelgard as the warmth insides her consumes her to bring an indescribable bliss. In fact she is so blissful that she leans in and presses a light kiss against Edelgard’s lips.

Apologises stammer out of her when the vampire retracted away and realised how many boundaries she crossed. Her vomit of apologies came to a halt when Edelgard tentatively and bashfully silenced her with her own chaste kiss. When the princess backs away there is a red blush that covers her face down to her chest. Lilac eyes dart away like a nervous critter, and then they look back up at Dorothea it is with worry and hopeful wonder. Red paints the vampire’s cheeks, and the swell of emotions that erupts from her is so magnificent that she feels compelled to kiss Edelgard again. The way the heir leaned forward indicated to Dorothea that she is not the only one to feel this compulsion.

Lilac and forest green shimmer in mutual understanding as they close the gap. Their lips meet together as equals, chaste and loving, gentle, all unfamiliar to the two. Even though it is clear to Dorothea that Edelgard has never kissed anyone before, with how she angled and pressed her lips, it is the greatest kiss Dorothea ever experienced. Loving and gentle, considerate of one another, opening up to the other out of trust, it is all conveyed in their kiss.

So this is what love is.

* * *

As expected: Edelgard is up late reading.

Another month has passed, and true to her word the heir began compiling books on matters surrounding vampirism. Whenever the princess wasn’t reading about vampirism she was reading about Crests. Grateful as Dorothea is, she finds Edelgard staying up all night to research. That woman is stupidly stubborn.

It is liberating for the two to now be open about their identities. Nothing has changed between them; they deeply care about each other. Since their kiss they have become affectionate, something once so foreign to them now becoming second nature when shared between them. Dorothea would use her inhuman speed to plant quick kisses on Edelgard’s forehead or cheeks and dash off. Edelgard would use a step on the stairs to kiss Dorothea on the lips and smile into it. These are but a few examples.

Seeing the white haired girl sitting on a chair to read a book over a dying candle Dorothea approached. From behind she gently draped her arms over the reader’s shoulders, and then carefully rested her chin atop Edelgard’s scalp. That did not stop the princess from reading.

“Reading up all night again, Edie…?” Dorothea spoke with a tinge of humour in her tone. She played with a lock of Edelgard’s hair. “I appreciate your efforts, really I do, but I rather you sleep.”

Edelgard let out a tired sigh. “I suppose that would be wise. In truth I stayed up tonight due to knowing that I shall be returning to Enbarr soon.”

Yes…

A few days ago Edelgard heard news from those that passed the castle that the climate has settled in the capital. The nobles that revolted have been arrested, and the country is waiting for their rightful next emperor to return. When Dorothea was told of this news she felt her heart shatter. The selfish part of her wanted to reach out and tell Edelgard to stay with her. She had even blurted out a quiet ‘don’t go’ to the princess. But she knows that it is for the best: as emperor Edelgard will conduct change in Fódlan, so that no one will ever suffer like the vampire once did on the streets. A world where none starved, where birth does not dictate rights, where Crests fade away and the Church does not dominate all, is something Dorothea would love to see. Yet knowing that, and wanting that, does not rid her heartache. She loves Edelgard, and Edelgard loves her. Love is something neither expected in their lives, only to find it in each other. 

The sound of a chair being pulled back broke her thoughts. Edelgard stood up and carefully took the vampire’s hands so they stood staring at each other. A soft gaze curtains Edelgard’s face, her lilac eyes peering deeply into Dorothea’s green orbs.

“Once I am crowned, will you come with me?”

Dorothea blinked in bewilderment. Come with her? Of course she would love to, yet the idea of leaving this castle is… is daunting. The castle has become integral to the vampire; it is like an organ, something that cannot be removed without harming the person. But to see the outside world once again is… oh how she craved it.

Edelgard squeezed the taller woman’s hands, and her expression grew pensive. “I cannot invite you now, for I fear that though the climate has settled there will be assassins that wish to claim mine and my closest companions’ lives.”

“But I implore you to come, for Adrestia has the greatest magic users in all of Fódlan. With the books I have gathered here, and with the greatest magical minds at my disposal, they are your best chance at curing your curse. There is also a group of people, friends even, that would love you. I doubt a cure will be found instantly, but in the meantime I very much would love your views on how I can improve the lives of commoners.”

A red blush engulfs the pallor woman’s cheeks, ears and neck. She looked down at the floor for a second, and then mustered the courage to look up. “And I… I love you dearly, Dorothea. It would be my greatest pleasure to have you.”

By the Goddess what did Dorothea do to deserve this wonderful woman? Without a word the vampire smiles until it reaches her ears, and brings a hand to cup Edelgard’s chin. Forest green glint in indescribable joy, and the crinkles against her face hurt with how magnificent she feels. These past months have been the greatest moments of Dorothea’s life, cliché as that may sound. Being in love with someone, someone so smart, brave, considerate and, though she’d kill her for thinking this, adorable as Edelgard is a feeling that nothing can compete with. She breathes out ‘I love you’ as she leaned in to capture Edelgard’s lips. Once they finished their sweet kiss Dorothea rested her forehead against the princess’. They bask in their warmth. 

“Nothing would make me happier, my sweet Edie.” 


End file.
